


The Iron Bellows

by raenys



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I guess it be like that sometimes, Porn with Feelings, Why is this my first thing posted?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 19:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raenys/pseuds/raenys
Summary: Even with the night sky returned, the Crystalline Mean is constantly a flurry of activity.However, the Exarch knows a few places where no one can see the two of you.





	The Iron Bellows

There was always more to do at the Crystalline Mean. 

The leves were never ending, both a blessing and a curse. They allowed the Warrior of Darkness to hone her skills and help the dear people of the Crystarium, yet they took up an inordinate amount of her time. She lifted her hands away from her current project: a set of Titanbronze Chakrams, for recruits of the guard. Though she had only gotten the one request for them thus far, the Warrior knew better than to assume that more orders would not follow and was working on her third set. 

As she fell into a rhythm combining the components (pre-crafted earlier, to streamline the final assembly process), her mind began to drift to her favorite subject--the Crystal Exarch. G’raha Tia.

Her Raha.

An easy smile spread across her face while she worked, a familiar warmth emanating from her chest. How joyous, how elated she had been, to be reunited. To have her feelings, so long buried, so long lost in an effort to keep herself afloat in a world without him; that they would be allowed to bloom once more was a blessing that she would cherish. To have them reciprocated in kind was an unforseen gift she would not squander.

The warmth in her chest shifted with her thoughts, innocent joy pooling into a creeping heat in her stomach as she began to reminisce on just how much they had been taking advantage of their time together. As the days passed, the calm and wise Exarch had been showing a much more impatient, insistent side of himself. Where before he had been content to wait until they were in perfect privacy to initiate any.... contact, now he was growing more bold; to the point where he would hardly have pulled her out of eyeshot before he was pressing into her, ferociously covering her lips with his own. And oh, the way he would whisper to her, the promises of what he would do once they truly were alone--

A hammer’s crash upon a sheet of metal nearby snapped the Warrior back to the present, her cheeks flushing as she recollected herself. She shook away the vacant expression on her face and reached for another chakram component, only to lose focus as another memory of heat and light and gasping and friction came unbidden--the momentary distraction was enough that she accidentally knocked over a pot of vampire vine sap. Why on earth was that even open? She steadied it quickly, but not before the sap coated both of her hands. An exasperated sigh escaped her--perhaps she needed to take something of a break, she had been at it all day… 

The Warrior stood and stared at her hands for a moment, then turned towards the back area of the Mean. She thought she remembered seeing some rags back here that she could use to tidy up; she made her way towards one of the shelves, but a whisper of her name grasped her attention. She glanced around, and movement from behind one of the large furnaces caught her eye. A cloak, a hood--

“G’raha?” she whispered, audible only to herself. He smiled and waved a hand, bidding her join him. What was he doing back there? She quickly stepped over to join him, glancing about to see who was around. No one was currently looking, but the Warrior could hear a group returning from lunch. As soon as she was within reach, the Exarch’s crystalline hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her into hiding with him, just as several of the blacksmiths rounded the corner and took back up at their workstations.

“Careful, Warrior of Darkness,” he murmured with a playful glint in his eye, “someone might have seen you.” The Warrior exhaled in a huff, but a slight tweak of her lips upward betrayed her fondness. She closed her stained hands to try and prevent getting any sap on him and rested her forearms over his shoulders in a light embrace, then leaned her forehead into his with a contented hum.

“I’m not the one sneaking around in my own city, Exarch.” He chuckled at her wry statement, nuzzling his nose to hers in a motion of such abject affection that any mock irritation she held was washed away in an instant. Hammers smashed on anvils at varying repetitive intervals, but hidden behind the furnace they savored their peaceful embrace--warmth and breath shared in a moment of loving tranquility. G'raha brushed his lips over the Warrior's and she could feel his mouth curl into a mischievous grin, his left hand firmly guiding her hips to his. He pressed her backwards against the furnace and moved his torso back slightly so he could examine her face, as if to engrave each ilm into his mind, expression impossibly loving. Oh Kami, it was difficult to concentrate when he stared at her so. 

The Warrior began to move her hands to cup his face on instinct, to bring his lips back to hers where they needed to be, but she remembered the sap staining them and froze. She saw his nose twitch, and he turned his attention to one of her hands at the odd scent.

“Crafting mishap, it seems?” G'raha gently reached up and grasped her left wrist with his crystalline hand, avoiding the sap stained areas as he rubbed a thumb back and forth over her pulse. “You’ve certainly made a mess.” The Warrior's mouth softened into a tender smile as he pressed a kiss to her unstained wrist and she watched mesmerised at how his plush lips moved against her skin. Those lovely lips parted and he nipped at her with greedy teeth, then he ground his hips against hers and ripped a sharp gasp from her throat. 

“What are you doing, G’raha Tia,” she managed to eke out in a harsh whisper, gaze darting to either side. They were hardly alone--sure, they were hidden behind a furnace, but were someone to check a nearby shelf and turn, they would almost certainly be seen. The Exarch was unbothered by this. In fact, the use of his true name only seemed to rile him up further, igniting a heat in his expression that burned into her core. He pressed closer still, burying his face against her neck; the Warrior could feel each and every one of his exhales, and his lips brushed against her skin as he spoke, further fanning the flames of her desire. 

“How is it that the sound of my name from your lips still affects me so?” He whispered her name like a prayer and slipped a knee between her legs, earning the beginning of a startled cry that he quickly silenced with his lips. He kissed her deeply for a moment and then reluctantly pulled back, laughing quietly as she moved her face to chase him. “You must be silent, my love, lest we are discovered.”

Moments like this, the Warrior was distinctly reminded of the brat G’raha was when they first met, so long ago. It seemed he hadn’t grown out of it after all.

G’raha knelt and lifted the hem of her haori, and the Warrior had to bite her lip to stifle another gasp as he leaned in and nipped at her inner right thigh. After pressing a kiss to the same spot, he trailed his tongue upwards--higher and higher until it was tracing the edge of her underwear.

The Warrior had to restrain herself once more, preventing herself from reaching out and burying her hands in her love’s soft hair as he teased her. She couldn’t help but think that this was so incredibly unfair as she clenched her sap-stained hands into fists, pressing the back of her right arm to her mouth to quiet herself.

He slipped his tongue under the fabric for only an instant before he withdrew, pulling a needy whine from his warrior’s throat, stifled by the fabric of her sleeve. G’raha turned his ministrations to her left thigh instead, alternating bites and kisses upon the supple flesh there, working his affections upward at a torturously slow pace. His Warrior was shaking by the time he had reached her panties again, and he trailed his tongue ever so gently along the seams of the fabric, pushing slightly underneath: enough to tease her as she desperately wished for more, and enough to tease himself with just a scant taste. He licked a line along the very center of her core over the fabric, eliciting a shudder from his Warrior as she struggled to remain silent and also keep her hands to herself.

He kissed the same place, and then after admiring her face and how he was affecting her, he finally slipped his tongue all the way under the fabric to run along her slit. The Warrior bit her sleeve to stifle the moans--despite the hammering of the blacksmiths in the mean around them, if she wasn’t careful she would be heard.

G’raha looked up at her as he devoured her, tenderly massaging her thighs. The sight of his quiet warrior quaking under his touch was invigorating. After years of toiling to save her, to see her again, after a century of longing--their shared love and desire was not to be wasted. He refused to waste this gift. He lapped at her core, savoring the taste of her, the sounds she was holding back. Slowly, he pressed his tongue inside her, as far as he could, before pulling back and pushing back in, over and over. He could tell that she was dying to touch him, that she desperately wanted to press his face even closer as her legs widened for him--he could almost hear her lamenting her sap mishap sevenfold. It wasn’t audible over the blacksmiths’ work, but the Warrior was indeed cursing herself that she couldn’t even touch him.

His Warrior’s legs began to tense up and he increased his pace, bringing his crystalline hand up to rub quick circles on her clit as he fucked her with his tongue. Finally she went rigid and she failed to fully stifle her cry as she came, her sweet core clenching around his tongue. He lapped at her slowly, gently, bringing her down from her orgasm, humming against her clit. She jumped a little at that, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. He pressed a kiss to her clit, then replaced her panties as he licked his lips.

She looked absolutely wrecked, face flushed, lips quivering, eyes unfocused, breathing so shallowly as she stared at him. G’raha rose to his feet, feeling himself harden even more than he already was. It certainly didn’t help when his Warrior noticed and began to rub against him, her dazed look becoming more and more mischievous by the instant. 

He hitched one of her legs up and began rubbing against her in earnest, muffling her moans with his lips this time. The Warrior grew even wetter at tasting herself on his tongue, and oh, gods how he wished to take her now--

“Hey, did you fellows hear something back here?” 

They froze.

"Vanish," The Exarch whispered, rendering them both invisible to any passers by. One of the blacksmiths rounded the furnace after a moment, hammering having subsided in favor of hearing what the fuss was about. The confused man looked around curiously at finding nothing, then shrugged and turned around. 

“Must have imagined it.” The others laughed a moment, teasing him for his jumpiness. As the hammering started back up, an invisible Exarch and Warrior of Darkness slipped past... and retreated to somewhere with a little more privacy.

The Warrior looked back towards her workstation, but a tug at her wrist and the heat in her core pulled her along with the Exarch.

The chakrams would be there when she got back.

\---

"Why didn't you just make us invisible in the first place?" She asked later that evening, drying her now clean hands with a towel. 

G'raha blinked, then grinned sheepishly as he scratched his cheek. His ears twitched as he admitted, "I… forgot, for a moment, that I could."

**Author's Note:**

> Guess it's time to be horny on main /shrug


End file.
